


i'm not even titling this it's too gay

by elliptical



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Worship, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Pale Porn, Past Abuse, Scars, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5531027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliptical/pseuds/elliptical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>nothing but embarrassing garbage merry christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm not even titling this it's too gay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgonApricot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgonApricot/gifts).



> merry christmas ya filthy animals  
> but particularly julia, who requested this Gay  
> this is pretty unfinished but we'll pretend it's finished

Sign pulls down the zipper on your suit with exceeding care, his eyes locked on your face the whole time, crinkled with kindness. You can't quite bring yourself to meet his gaze, so you focus on a spot just above his shoulder and swallow.

"You're still okay with this?" he asks. "I can stop."

"It's." You swallow again. Your throat clicks, and you card your fingers through his hair, trying to make them stop shaking. "I want. I want you to. Just. Know what you're in for."

He's never seen you naked before, never even seen you in your boxers. Your flight suit doesn't offer much in the way of protection, but it is an effective shield between what you are and what they think you are. You never had cause to be embarrassed by your body before - you are what you are, what you always have been, and you grew up around people just as ugly and broken as you.

But you realized how healthy Sign and Di and Rosa looked the first time they bathed in front of you, scarred in places but mostly whole, proper padding over their skeletons and muscles that rippled in the moonlight. They laughed and splashed each other and Di yanked Sign's legs out from under him to send him face-first into the river, and you couldn't bring yourself to join them.

You rinsed off later, after they'd gone back to camp. You didn't want them looking at you. You didn't want them _looking at you_.

Rosa's seen the worst of it since then, because you need help with port maintenance if you don't want to rust or get an infection, but the way she sucks in her breath every time you undress makes you never want Sign or Di to see. And here you are anyway and you, you -

Sign pulls away from your zipper and covers your hands in his instead. "Hey," he murmurs, "hey, it's okay. Nothing you don't want. You don't have to push yourself to do anything you don't want to do. Not for my or anyone else's sake, not ever."

You're shaking worse than you thought. "Give me a thec - a second."

"Of course," he says, and you curl your fingers tightly around his to make sure he doesn't leave.

You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood. Sign squeezes your hands.

"Can you tell me what you're thinking?" he asks after a pause.

"I'm thinking - thinking - thinking - I..."

He rubs his thumbs over the backs of your palms and waits patiently, his breathing slow and even. Sign's never once been irritated with you for your lack of social skill, but that doesn't stop you from trying to answer too fast and tangling the words on your tongue.

You force your breath to match his, frowning as you concentrate. "I'm not worried you'll take advantage of me," you say finally, because you're not. You never have been. It's not that the possibility hasn't crossed your mind - more that it's never been worth the fear. You are what you are and things happen how they happen. You're a slave - were a slave. There's no point in working yourself up over the natural order of -

\- no, dammit, that's not -

\- fuck.

He releases one of your hands to cup your cheek instead, pushing your hair back behind your ear as your breathing quickens again. "Hey," he says. "Hey, you're okay. Breathe with me, okay? In and out, in and out - there, there we go. That's better."

If he ever did take advantage of you, you probably wouldn't even care. There's nothing in this world that can stop you from loving him. He's all your faith and longing wrapped up in one person, all your hope and trust and love. If he hurt you, you wouldn't even care. You'd lay down and tell him _whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want_...

You can't say that out loud, though. Coming from you, it's meant as a reassurance, but it scares him worse. You really have tried to take his talks about power imbalances and boundaries and consent to heart, but the fact of the matter is he's worth more than you and you'd do anything to make him happy.

"I love you," you say.

He nods, running his fingertips in small circles over your temple. "I love you too."

"I'd do anything for you."

His mouth turns down at the corners. He does not consider this part of your attachment romantic, but you wouldn't know how to separate it if you tried, and you do try. You know it's unhealthy. You know it burdens him, because he has to balance your affection with helping you cope with teaching you to say no, because he has no way of knowing if you're okay until you really aren't, because you're too stupid to untangle all the threads of love and sort out which are good and which aren't.

"Psii..."

"I know. I know. That's not what you want to hear, I. I know. I'm sorry, I'm not - it's just what I'm thinking."

He nods, running his thumb along your bottom lip. You've managed to make him sad with five words. Fuck.

"I don't think we should do this right now," he says.

That stings more than you expected. "But I - I thought..."

"Psii, if you ever take your clothes off for me, I want it to be because _you_ wanted to. Not because you think it's what I want. All I ever want is for you to feel safe and comfortable and happy, okay? It's okay if you don't want me to look at you right now. It's okay if you never do. I don't want you to do it for me, okay?"

You pull back from him and settle down in the pile, yanking one of the blankets over yourself like a cocoon, knees drawn to your chest.

"Psii," he says, touching your shoulder. "Tell me what you're thinking?"

You shake your head.

"I want to know. I won't be angry, I promise."

"You're never angry." You pull the blanket over your chin and curl up tighter, and the words spill out faster than you can make sense of them, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. "You're always kind to me even when I upset you and you never raise your voice and you never hit me and you're never angry and you're so kind _all the time_ and you always ask what I want but I don't even know, I don't know, I just want to make you happy but I don't know how to do that and I keep upsetting you and I'm not trying, I swear I'm not trying - trying to put all the weight on you and make you set all the boundaries and make you scared all the time that you're hurting me because you don't, you couldn't, I don't even _ask_ if you want to be here and I'm not good enough, I don't make you happy and I'm not good enough, I'm not good enough for you, I..."

"Psii, holy shit." He squeezes your shoulder. "Can I come under there? Join you in blanket hell?"

"...Okay."

He slides into the cocoon beside you, his chest pressed against your back, arms curled loosely around your waist. "I love you," he says, pressing his face into your hair. "I love you so much. Shh."

"Okay."

You shiver. He's warmer than you, and the heat radiates through the thin fabric of your suit.

"You already make me happy." His hands curl back around yours. "Give me a second to figure out the things I want to say, okay?"

"Okay."

He kisses the side of one of your larger horns. "You make me so fucking happy," he says. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. I want to be with you. I love you. It's a privilege to love you, not an obligation." He kisses your other horn. "I know you're doing your best with the boundaries. I know they don't come naturally to you. I just want to make sure I don't push you into anything you're not comfortable with."

"I wouldn't mind if you did."

"I know. But I would." He hugs you tighter. "I don't ever want to make you afraid or uncomfortable or unhappy, and I don't ever want you to make yourself afraid or uncomfortable or unhappy because you're trying to make me happy. I'm happy when you're happy."

"The word 'happy' is starting to sound really weird."

He snorts. "If you're stressed about taking your clothes off, you don't have to. That's all. You and I are okay. You're wonderful. I know you don't believe it, but the whole idea of measuring people by whether they're 'good enough' or not just goes back to... fuck, I won't preach at you right now. Just. I love you. You're sweet and wonderful and stronger than you know and you're so fucking precious to me. Don't ever doubt that."

"Don't make me cry more, asshole."

He snorts again, nuzzling back into your hair. "It wouldn't be a proper piling if we didn't end up crying."

"That is... fair." You stretch out and turn around, tracing your fingers over his cheek. "I'm not scared of you seeing me. I'm scared you won't want to touch me anymore."

"I am pretty sure that's not possible."

"It's gross, Sign. I'm gross."

"Psii." He rolls his eyes. "I've seen helmsmen before. I doubt anything will surprise me."

"That doesn't make it less gross."

"You aren't gross. Here, I'll prove it to you." His hands drift back to your zipper, still pulled halfway down your torso. "Is this okay? Is it okay if we keep going? Say no if you don't want me to."

"I..." You lean your forehead against his, closing your eyes. "I want you to. Just please don't leave. That's my only condition. If you get my clothes off then you're in this shit for the long haul, and it will just fucking suck to be you if you decide I'm too disgusting to handle."

"I won't go anywhere," he says, his breath tickling your upper lip as he pulls the zipper down the rest of the way.

You sit up and let the blankets fall to your lap, allowing him to ease the fabric off your shoulders, averting your gaze so you don't have to see what he does. The scarring on your torso is... extensive to say the least, but worse is the way your skin clings to your ribs without padding to speak of. You've tried to put on weight, but you burn energy as soon as it's stored and you forget to eat more often than not. Too skinny, too scarred, too sick.

"You're beautiful," Sign says quietly.

You shake your head once. "Don't. Don't lie."

"I'm not lying," he says, and in response to your derisive snort, adds, "Maybe not _traditionally_ beautiful."

"There's the understatement of the century."

"Look at you, though." He draws your arms out of their sleeves, tracing his fingers over the undersides, around the edges of the ports inset into your wrists. Four on each forearm, all currently closed. What's left of your skin is mottled with discoloration and scar tissue from where the bioware leeched on your flesh. He's never seen the extent of it before - he's only been able to study the damage to your hands.

"Look at you," he repeats, kissing your inner wrist, just above the first port. A shiver ripples down your spine. "Look how strong you are."

"I'm not."

"Fight me," he says, kissing your other wrist.

"I'm really not, Sign."

"Fight me, motherfucker."

"I will!" You smush your hand against his face, since it's in conveniently close proximity. "You give me too much credit. I'm not some kind of bravely suffering hero."

He wrinkles his nose and begins tracing the scars on your chest. "And life isn't an action movie."

"And I'm not strong."

"Look at - fuck, Psii, all of the stories you've told me, all of the things you've been through, and you still won't believe in your strength?"

"Enduring because you have to isn't the same as making the choice to be self-sacrificial. It's not like you."

"Hoofbeastshit! Hoofbeastshit. I am going to argue the fuck out of this."

The tips of your ears flatten. "Don't. I'm not trying to - you don't have to - I understand and appreciate your perspective. You don't need to convince me."

"Lay back," he says softly.

"Sign, you honestly do not have to - "

"' _I understand and appreciate your perspective,_ '" he mimicks, nudging your shoulders. "Also hoofbeastshit. Lay back, I'm going to make you appreciate it."

You let out the most longsuffering sigh you can muster, laying down against the blankets.

He hovers over you, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders as he kisses your cheek. "You are wonderful," he says, brushing his lips over your jaw, the hollow behind your ear. You whine. "I want to know all the stories. All the scars."

"I don't even remember where most of them came from. And also telling you all the ones I do remember would just be a huge downer."

"It's not a proper pile if we don't end up crying," he reminds you.

He kisses your collarbones and begins drawing a careful path over your chest with his lips, goosebumps rising in his wake. You shiver. "Sign, I..."

"You're gorgeous."

You close your eyes and resign yourself, breaking into a soft purr.

"And strong and far too humble about it, and I'm going to kiss every one of your scars."

"That's going to take forever."

"I've got time."

"Got better things to do with it, too."

"Hmmm. Nope, I think this is the best use of my time. Fight me."

By the time he reaches your abdomen, you're too distracted to do anything but continue purring. Sign's voice washes over you, soft murmurs against your skin, and you discover it's easier to let him praise you for no reason than to argue with him.

"I love you," he says, kissing your stomach.

"Mmmn. Lov'oo."

"Roll over," he says, and you do without question.

He rubs his thumb in small circles over the main interface port on the back of your neck as you bury your face into the pile, still purring helplessly. "I love you so much," he says. "Nothing's ever going to change that."

"Mmm."

He slides his hand down, running his fingers over the edges of your spinal ports. "Nothing."

"Mmmkay."

"I can't even fathom how strong you are." His lips find a scar on your shoulder. "So fucking brave. To leave them, to be here, to be doing your best to help people - you're so good, you're so brave."

You turn your face to the side so you can speak. "I'm scared all the time, Sign."

"And you have every reason to want to be out of the line of fire but you're still here, working for the movement, protecting us, freeing slaves, feeding free trolls - you risk everything by being here. That's bravery. Constant bravery."

"I'm not going anywhere," you say. "You're wrong. I have no reason to want to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but with my family."

"It takes bravery to be here. End of story."

You run your tongue over your lips. "You're brave too," you say.

"I'm just trying to fix things."

"You could hide if you wanted to. You could stay out of the spotlight, live a long life, keep from getting hurt - if you really wanted to. You're brave."

"I'm just..."

You raise your head and look over your shoulder. "This is a two way street, motherfucker."

He laughs and relents, running his hand through your hair and nudging your face back into the pile. "Okay, fine. I'm brave too."

"Mmhmm. You bet your ass you are. Meet me in the pit."

He shakes with silent laughter and lowers more of his weight onto you, just enough to press you deeper into the pile, snagging his arms around your chest. "Feeling better yet?"

"A little." You definitely aren't shaking anymore, at least, and he's still as warm as always. You could feasibly stay right here until the sun comes up and then some.

"Good. Anyway, settle down, I'm not even halfway done kissing all your scars."

You splutter. "Are you - are you fucking serious, are you actually going to - of course you are, why would I ever think the great Signless 'Broken Pity Gland' Vantas would half-ass anything to do with being completely impractical and trying to re-enact something out of a pale porn novel - "

"Shoosh," he says, and you quiet immediately. "Like you said. We are in this shit for the long haul."

Well.

You guess it's time to stay right here until the sun comes up and then some.


End file.
